


Three in a Bed

by Owl_by_Night



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Kink Meme, Multi, Prompt Fic, Threesome - F/M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owl_by_Night/pseuds/Owl_by_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A struggle for space when there are three in a bed turns into an opportunity for something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three in a Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a kinkmeme [ prompt](http://jsmn-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1613.html?thread=1838157#cmt1838157) which asked for Grant being tickled. OT3 smut ensued. 
> 
> With many thanks to Fengirl88 for her encouragement in writing this :)

It's only natural, Grant assumes, that there be a little wrestling for space when trying to share a double bed between three people. Arabella is the smallest of them but she seems to take up much more than her share of the space and she has her devious means of getting it. A sharp elbow here, a nudge there... and the tickling. 

Usually it stops quickly enough when Grant or Jonathan move to give her a little more space, but this evening she carries on just a little too long for it to be innocent. She knows, damnit, exactly what it does to him. Her slim fingers run down his sides, wriggling against his skin and he can't help his reaction to it: uncontrollable, undignified and rather breathless giggling. He squirms, not sure whether to move away from or towards her, and ends up colliding with Jonathan behind him, pressing tight against Jonathan's body as he laughs helplessly. Arabella carries on, apparently enjoying herself. He is entirely unable to hide from her the way that he reacts, not just with laughter but the way it turns him on, makes him want. 

Jonathan groans in his ear, aroused and appreciative, and unsurprising given the way Grant has been writhing against him. Grant can feel Jonathan's cock hard against his arse and it doesn't help him focus on what he meant to say, on how he was going to say 'stop'. He doesn't really want to now.  
He can see Arabella, raising one eyebrow at Jonathan, and he knows he's in trouble. This is a night for fun then, a night for playing. A night for the two of them ganging up on him and making him lose his mind. 

It doesn't happen quite as he expects. Instead of tickling him, Arabella leans forward and kisses him, distractingly demanding, biting at his lip. Only when she has his attention, when he thinks he is safe, do the tickling hands return. They are not Arabella's hands this time but Jonathan's, running over the sensitive skin around his hips, his waist, his ribs. He's trapped between them, mouth trying to kiss and laugh, grinding hard against Jonathan almost without meaning to. Jonathan's hand moves to his stomach and holds him tight, stopping him from being able to move away, another dimension to the helpless feeling he's half ashamed to admit he enjoys. 

Arabella's fingers skim lightly down his neck. Every inch of his skin is over sensitive and ticklish now. He whimpers, somewhere between laughter and being overwhelmed by it, hips bucking against Jonathan's restraining hand. 

"Is this alright?" Arabella asks him, looking him in the eye and waiting for him to have enough breath to process the question. He nods and she grins at him, beautiful and wicked. She kisses a line down his neck, licking at the skin and then pulling away so that Jonathan can lean forward and blow gently on the wet skin until Grant shivers. They know every place where light kisses and touches will drive him to distraction. Jonathan kisses along the back of his neck, the curve of his ear. Arabella unbuttons his pyjama top to reveal more skin to kiss. It's gentler than the tickling but the sensation is no less all consuming. 

Grant twists between them, unable to escape. Jonathan strokes him through the fabric of his pyjamas, a slow tease in contrast to Arabella who tickles him again, snaking quick fingers under his arms, always moving, making him cry out. There are tears in his eyes from laughing and they carry on until it borders on too much, until he's flushed and breathless from it. Then they stop and he groans at the loss. 

"Help me undress him," Jonathan says, kissing Arabella over Grant's shoulder. They roll him over and strip him, finding news places that will make him twitch and writhe: his feet, so he nearly kicks at Jonathan, the backs of his knees, his elbows: he doesn't need restraining now, he's helpless, too far gone to laugh properly and so hard it almost hurts. Sex with them is always good, but this is something else. Grant has never known anything to match having both of them entirely focused on him. 

They work together, kneeling one on each side of him as he lies there, oversensitive and lost beneath their hands and mouths. He feels untethered from himself, so overwhelmed by the sensation of it that he hardly knows which way is up. 

No matter how disorientated he is, he can't miss Jonathan's mouth on his cock, the hot wetness of it and Jonathan's tongue curling round him as he sucks. Grant bucks upwards, whining in protest even as Arabella pounces on him again, letting no patch of skin go untouched. She straddles him, pinning him to the bed and pulling his arms wide. She kisses him and then runs teasing fingers up from his wrists and along the inside of his elbows to make him jump. He can feel the wetness of her against his chest and he'd like to pull her upwards, within reach of his mouth so he can taste her and watch her squirm for a change, but she changes tactics again, tickling him mercilessly under his arms and the words are lost. Jonathan, heedless of the way Grant wriggles, is relentless in his task. He's so good with his mouth. Too good. Grant can't possibly resist. Helpless and caught between them, he finds himself careering towards orgasm, hardly able to breathe. Jonathan moves his head a little faster, takes him a little deeper into his mouth and Arabella kisses him breathless. Grant tips over the edge, coming so hard the world seems to grey at the edges. 

Afterwards he lies there panting, feeling his heart race. He is, he thinks, the luckiest man alive.


End file.
